


The Matchmaker's Push

by theblackdash



Series: The Matchmaker [2]
Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-25
Updated: 2015-02-25
Packaged: 2018-03-15 01:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3433388
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theblackdash/pseuds/theblackdash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Matchmaker's work is never done! </p><p>Love finds another individual in the fade, one whose roots are as ancient as Arlathan itself. His eyes gaze at Vir'Abelasan yet his body is turned to the stairs. </p><p>It is up to her to give him the guidance he needs for him to finally unshackle himself from the past and allow himself to fall in love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Matchmaker's Push

**Author's Note:**

  * For [SlaveToTheMocha](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SlaveToTheMocha/gifts).



> Hello, everyone! Theblackdash again and this time the Spirit of Love from my story The Little Matchmaker returns to pester another character! I'd like to introduce to Suledin who is SlaveToTheMocha's lovely OC! 
> 
> It all started when Mocha drew Suledin and needless to say BreLakor and I totally fell in love with him. Here is what he looks like!
> 
> http://inquisilicious.tumblr.com/image/110802573578  
> http://inquisilicious.tumblr.com/image/110549201863
> 
> So I hope you all enjoy the next couple our tiny shipper is going to pair up!

A small tug at her being drew her attention as she was lying by the patch of flowers that she had settled. She dismissed the feeling and resumed singing happily until she felt another pull, a little stronger than the first. The third time it happened the spirit of Love jumped to her feet and screeched excitedly to herself.

“I know this feeling!” she shouted and flew towards the direction where she felt the tug.

Her tiny feet kicked the air and her arms flailed about as she flew under and over objects from people’s dreams. She soon neared the tear of the forming dream and with a squeal of delight, dove inside. A burst of forming magic tickled her being as she joined in the dream but she stopped midair to take in the beauty of the scene.

Spires made of crystal and trees so high that they covered the glow of the high sun were what filled her vision and the spirit, in her awe, looked at all of them with a smile. A rush of nostalgia that was not her own came over her and she knew that she had stumbled upon a dream of what once was. She recognized the magic in the dream, it felt almost similar to a certain being’s own dreams whom she had meddled before.

A giggle bubbled from her lips but remembering her place, the little spirit searched for the familiar pull of love. Closing her eyes, she felt the feeling pulse within the realm and with that as her guide she allowed her being to float to where it was strongest. She stopped just before she had hit a stone wall.

Looking up, she was before an ancient structure that radiated the aura of old magic. She floated down to the stone floor of the temple entrance. She peered inside, tilting her head from side to side, but failed to see anything past the trees and statues. She took a deep breath and shouted.

“Helloooooo?!”

Her voice was high and it bounced off the walls of the building, disrupting the melody of the breeze that blew against the trees. Though she had screamed, there was no answer and with a shrug she marched inside.

More towering trees were in the temple that was also decorated heavily with ornate etchings and engravings on the floors and wall. The spirit hummed as she looked at them but never stopped to take a better look at them. It was a long walk, she soon realized and thought that no wonder no one had answered her as she said her greeting. A few turns here and there and the little girl found herself at the foot of stairs that were held with magic. She felt the aura of ancient magic thrumming in the air and it belonged not to the magic in the dream but to the being residing in it.

“Hello?” she cried out again but heard no answer.

Miffed, she pouted and crossed her arms and glared at the top of the stairs. She didn’t like being ignored. The spirit soon calmed down  and began her ascent up to wherever the stairs would lead her. It didn’t take her long to reach the top and she was greeted with the sight of an empty pool and a solitary figure standing just before it. His back was to her and she walked up towards his form.

She raised her hand and pulled on the hem of his robe. The action startled the being, making him jump before whipping his head to his back. The spirit smiled bashfully when his blue eyes fell on her.

“A spirit?” he uttered in surprise. “I apologize, I did not notice your presence.”

The girl wrinkled her brows. She didn’t purposely hide her presence as she entered the dream so it was impossible for him to not have noticed her. Even if he wasn’t a mage she knew that ancient elves had a deep connection to magic that she knew that they could sense her when she visits them in their dreams. But then perhaps his mind was too muddled that he had not given his attention to his surroundings.

“That’s okay,” she smiled.

She appraised the elf with curiosity in her eyes. In his dream, he was adorned with armor made of gold and leather. His head mostly shaven except for one portion where his auburn hair was tied into a tight braid that grew past his shoulders. There was a certain rigidness in his form akin to the regality that the spirit recognized elves of old possessed. And his blue eyes were framed with a quiet melancholy. The little spirit wondered if ancient elves were all masochists then.

The girl then crouched down, her hands on her knees as she tore her eyes from his form to gaze at the crumbling temple around them. “What’s this place?” she asked.

“It is the Temple of Mythal,” answered the man.

“I didn’t ask that,” replied the girl.

A little confused, the elf turned his gaze to her crouched figure and looked at her questioningly

“I meant what is the significance of this place,” she said. Her eyes seemed to pierce him as she looked at him.

For a moment, the elven man was struck with silence. He turned his gaze to the sky when he finally composed himself well enough to answer.

“Many ages ago, I had taken an oath to protect this place from being corrupted,” he breathed.

“Hmm… it must be very important,” thought the girl out loud.

“It is… or was,” hesitated the man. “To be honest, I am not so certain anymore.” A sigh, tired and resigned, came out from his lips.

The spirit giggled, “Why aren’t you sure? This is your dream.”

The elven man didn’t answer and instead continued to gaze at the scene before him. The little spirit too turned to look at the empty well that was before them. A grief, silent and heavy, enveloped this place and the spirit wondered then if this is how the man saw this place with his eyes or if this place was his heart reflected in the dream.

She turned her eyes and look at his towering figure next to her and noticed that his eyes were turned to the well yet his body was turned ever so slightly to the stairs. A small smile pulled on the little being’s lips.

“Cherry tree.”

Startled, the elf turned to her, “What was that?”

“Nothing,” squealed the little spirit as she jumped to her feet. She skipped nearer to the well and stood near the stairs. She clasped her hands behind her back and peered hard into the well for a few moments before quickly twirling to him as her hands immediately went to her mouth. “Oh, I forgot to ask you something!” cried the girl.

The elf’s brow were raised, “And what is your question, da’len?”

“I don’t know your name!” exclaimed the spirit.

A smile with a tinge of sadness pulled on his lips. “Suledin,” he answered quietly.

“Suledin!” giggled the girl as she clapped in delight.

“What about yours, da’len? What may I call you?” he inquired, his small smile never leaving.

“My name is not important,” declared the girl as she leaped into the air. She had come only to look for him and find out who he is and she was ready to leave. She flitted through the air and stopped just before the stairs.

‘But if you want to call me something, you may call me Iris,” she said playfully before spinning through air as she flew to the sky. This was going to be another interesting project she thought as found the tear in the dream and slipped past through it..

 

**Author's Note:**

> Symbols:
> 
> Cherry tree - death and rebirth and new awakenings
> 
> Iris - Faith, Wisdom, Promise in Love, Hope and Valor; Messenger


End file.
